Do Not Touch the Water
by Scarabbug
Summary: ...And other "Star Trek The Next Generation" tales. Short challenge-fanfictions. General series. All characters. Chapter ten: They haven’t got a hope in hell.
1. Fics One Through Five

**This fanfic (or rather, series of fanfics) was inspired by a challenge on LiveJournal called **_50Passages._** To those of you who aren't familiar with this trend of fanfiction challenges, this particular test was to write a fanfiction for every** _Lord of the Rings_ **quote in a total list of 50. I thought I might be able to come up with some interesting responses. Most of these fics are drabbles (with one or two double drabbles) and will be divided into several chapters.**

**Some of these are set during the TNG series itself, and will be appropriately referenced at the end of the fic. Standard disclaimers apply (see my profile) and reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated. **

* * *

**001. "**_**I knew I'd want it, if I hadn't got it!"**_

When excited, Fajo tends to prattle. Mostly to himself, though he occasionally makes a joke and expects _somebody_ to laugh, so it's best to stay on your toes and keep listening, even when he isn't talking to you.

'The second I saw it, I knew I _had_ to have it... It's _everything_ they said! Or _he's_ everything... perhaps I should say "_he_" do you think it cares for gender? It's a machine, after all; but _what_ a machine! The hytritium _is_ ready, isn't it, Varria?'

(Case in point for always staying of your toes.) 'Of course, Fajo.'

'Excellent, excellent. Just wait, I don't doubt those couple of shipments that exploded will be worth the extra cost.'

'The pilots will have to be replaced,' Varria says, and tells herself that it's merely a practical, business observation. That she feels no bitterness whatsoever for the two, unexpected deaths.

Fajo's eyes gleam. 'Oh, they'll be worth it too, my dear. Workers are cheap, but _this_ is a once in a lifetime acquirement.'

Varria shivers. She hasn't seen him this worked up since the Rejac Crystal bidding. Whatever this _Data_ is, it had better be as impressive as Fajo says.

* * *

**002. "**_**I am not the master of the law, and cannot set it aside**_**."**

There are times when he has to remind himself of the rules. And then remind himself further that they are not simply _laws_, but _philosophies_. Values that have existed since long before humanity first touched the stars, and which have allowed the evolution of countless exquisite, individual cultures, free of alien influence.

But still, there are nightmares which have followed Jean Lu Picard throughout his life in Starfleet, intermingled with the screams of worlds disintegrating before his eyes –their salvation at his fingertips, yet prevented by the cold, glass wall of philosophy.

It is... sometimes difficult to see the logic of the Prime Directive...

"_I will require my hands... Thank you._"

...Particularly when your second officer goes and brings a living example of it onboard, and she insists on holding his hand throughout the entire mission.

* * *

_**003. "I suppose you feel that everything has gone off splendidly and according to plan?"  
**_

He played the same way that he did everything –with a skill and accuracy that astonished everyone who didn't know his true nature. In this case, only two people in the Bar right now do know of it, and they're certainly not going to blab, no matter how much the opponent's teammates (Selayians, scary looking guys) glare at them.

'...This is a really bad idea, Doc.'

'Well, you talked him into it, Geordi.'

'That is _not_ true. I'm pretty sure we _both_ had a hand in this. And it was Data's idea in the first place, I might add.'

'Say what you like, Geordi,' Doctor Crusher smiles and places down her otherwise untouched (and rather misty –this is a really crummy bar) glass of Clear Ether. 'But the only way we're getting that information on how to get back to the _Enterprise_ is if we're able to trade enough gold pressed latinum to keep the entire Ferengi Alliance happy for it. And I have to say this is the most impressive game of Dom Jot I've ever seen anyone play.'

* * *

**004. **_**Our last shortcut through woods nearly ended in disaster**_**.  
**

'It's left.'

'Are you sure? I could've sworn we just came down that path...'

'I'm sure, call it First Officer's Instinct.'

'Oh? And _where_ was this amazing First Officer's Instinct when we were stumbling through briar patches?'

'I think it was taking a sabbatical, but this time I'm sure. It's definitely _that_ way.'

'Will, I don't believe your feelings are in agreement with that statement.'

'_Deanna_, you know your half of the deal: you're not allowed to use your Counsellor's-Voice this weekend.'

'This _isn't_ my Counsellor's-Voice; this is my Deanna-doesn't-want-to-be-lost-in-the-middle-of-nowhere-anymore-Voice! And speaking of which, _that_ way leads _back_ into the woods, our last shortcut through the woods nearly ended in disaster!'

'Just... _trust_ me, Deanna, I mean it's not like we can get anymore lost than we are.'

'...Humph. Well... alright.'

'Great. Come on, if we hurry and maybe we'll be back at camp in time for... am I feeling raindrops?'

'Ohh, _Will_. I swear, next shoreleave _you_ are taking me to Risa; no questions asked.'

* * *

**_005. There was something in this tree that I have never seen before_.**

'Is it... I-I mean could it be... it's not...'

'Alive?'

'Yes, _alive_. It can't be, can it? I mean the idea is absurd...'

'Sure it is. It's as absurd as our being stuck here in the first place, Reg. We'll find out for sure when we get back to the ship and run tests,' Will circles the trunk a third time, brushing the smoothness of metallic bark and pale vines. The tree chuckling.

Well. It _sounds _like chuckling. or at least, the dainty sound of bells. At least it was no longer thwapping its branches about and trying to uproot itself. It seemed to like Reg. Wild; crazy creatures that tended to attack eveyrone else in the vicinity usually did, for some reason.

He's so preoccupied that he doesn't notice Reg's abduction until he hears an ungainly squawk and turns to find a Lieutenant Junior Grade hanging upside down by his feet in the tree's upper branches. The leaves of the tree tinkle loudly and a hollow whoosing sound rises up from deep within its trunk.

'C-commander? Ah—c-commander I-I would appreciate a little help he-umph!!'

It's through an act of sheer willpower alone that Riker doesn't laugh as loudly as the tree.

* * *

_**References.**_

_**#001: Episode reference: "The Most Toys". **_

_**#002: Episode refrence: "Pen Pals".**_

* * *


	2. Fics Five Through Ten

**This fanfic (or rather, series of fanfics) Taken from a challenge on LiveJournal called **_50Passages_** – the challenge being to write a fanfiction for every **_Lord of the Rings_** quote given in a list of 50. I thought I might be able to come up with some interesting responses to them. **

**Most of these fics are drabbles (with one or two double drabbles) and will be divided into several chapters.**

* * *

**006. "**_**I see shapes of Men and of horses**_**..."**

'Horses?' Well that makes as little sense as... just about everything else which has happened today. _Damn Q and his ridiculous pastimes_. 'How fast and from which direction?'

'Their baring is north-west, across the plateau in our direction, sir; they are approaching at a speed of...' Data hesitates, which in itself is something of a novelty. If the Captain didn't know better he would've sworn that the android was _gulping_. '...Fast.'

'A speed of _fast_?' Will repeats.

'Indeed. Sir, I believe strategic retreat would be a most sensible recourse.'

'In other words,' Geordi muttered grabbing his Tricorder from the undergrowth, 'let's get the hell out of here.'

* * *

007. "_**We believe that we may meet again in a time to come, and perhaps we shall find somewhere a land where can live together and both be content**_."

She watches Jack on the Holodeck.

It's an old recording. Years younger than the man she now knows (_knew. Past tense, Beverly, you'd better get used to it_). He's playing Volleyball in the Academy, as Beverly sits amidst a holographic audience, and waits with held breath for the moments between scoring, when Jack will turn and look around in mock nonchalance. It's her he's seeking amidst the crowd. Her younger self, smiling and not at all noticing him in particular. Or so she'd told herself at the time. It's almost like being back there again, though she knows in her heart that it's not real.

They were never the kind of people who made many promises. They knew their lives and careers were far too jeopardous for that. But this room –this holographic image that she had laboriously crafted out of academy recordings and memory– holds one of the few they did make: When Wesley was old enough she would take him to a game just like this. Like the ones his father –who was normally glued to a science terminal– played.

For the first few weeks, Beverly couldn't stay away from that Holodeck. Only Wesley could draw her out from it, with his increasingly regular withdrawals from class and his desperate need for a mother who wouldn't disappear the way his father had.

A year after Beverly closed that program (for the good of son, her mental health _and_ her career), she takes Wesley to an official Starfleet Academy Volleyball match, and they sit, both of them feeling just slightly awkward amidst more dogged and (in Beverly's case) much younger fans of the sport. Yet they still smile with a kind of private contentment at every scored point and never cheering at all. It feels as if they're watching him. As if he's here with them right now and need never be forgotten. The tradition continues for many years afterwards.

* * *

008. _**"Do not touch the water!" **_

Of course, by the time she's gotten the words out of her mouth, it's too late. The entire away team has already touched the water. It's a little difficult for them _not_ to given that it's risen up to their knees. The way things are going, they'll to be up to their necks before she manages to pick the lock on this stupid phaser-proof, VISOR-proof, android-proof, everything-under-the-damn-sun-proof metal door.

'Ah... Tasha?' Geordi coughs. 'The energy circuits in the next room are starting to hit the water level. I'm picking up energy readouts that I don't think you _want_ to know the meaning of. The phrase "electricity and water equals' bad combo" springs to mind.'

How long do we have?'

'Precisely ten minutes fifteen seconds.'

'Oh great,' Tasha hisses as she scratches herself on a broken wire they had to pull out of one of Data's access panels. 'When I joined Starfleet I always expected I could die in the line of Duty, but _not_ as a result of drowning.'

'Fortunately, Tasha, the energy surge from the power station will interact with the liquid and render us non functional long before the water level becomes a problem.'

'_Thank you_, Data, that's _all_ I need to know.' Tasha works a little faster.

* * *

_**009. Lights went out in the house and hamlet as they came, and doors were shut, and folk that were afield cried in terror and ran wild like hunted deer.  
**_

A brief lull in movement, a moment of stunned silence, and then there is chaos.

Fortunately, it is a moderately _organized_ chaos. People already know which way to run if they want to reduce their chances of being captured. The crew could simply not enforce the order to "_stay within the anti-transport podiums_" enough. Nonetheless, here and there are people breaking away from the throng and staggering into the unprotected territory. They disappear quickly, and others topple into the spaces the vanishing bodies left behind. At some point he loses his balance and tears away the artificial bioplast surface of his elbow.

Data is too preoccupied with getting the child back on his feet and continuing the evacuation to notice.

* * *

_**010. "You seem to know a lot. More than is good for you, I guess."**_

'Surely, you don't see your species like that, do you?'

Picard pauses for a moment, pondering Q's sarcastic query, and realises that he does not. Not entirely. Not _yet_. For _what a piece of work _is_ man_? In their last encounter with Q, millennia of fear, cruelty, prejudice and ignorance had been held up towards the blinding lights of a Post-Atomic Horror courtroom, and Picard had had but a scant two centuries of history (most of which he couldn't remember) with which to defend his species.

Q knows this. Though some kind of vindictive telepathy, he knows _everything_ there is to know about the human mind –or so he believes. The human _heart_, however...

Picard somehow doubts that Q had even _heard_ of Shakespeare before he came to be here. _Farpoint_ was only the beginning, and Commander Riker is the starting whistle for the second round...

'...I see us one day becoming that, Q. Is it that which concerns you?'

_How like a God... _

The look of rage on Q's face before he vanishes sends a surge of triumph rushing through primordial veins, before Picard realises –there will be consequences to this confrontation, the likes of which no human has ever dealt with before.

* * *

_**#009: Film reference: "Star Trek: Insurrection". **_

_**#010: Episode reference: "Hide and Q". (The quote Q is responding to is the following, spoken by Picard: "Oh I know Hamlet, and what he might say with irony I say with conviction –What a piece of work is man. How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty. In form, in moving, how express and how admirable - in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a God."**_

* * *


	3. Eleven Through Fifteen

**This fanfic (or rather, series of fanfics) Taken from a challenge on LiveJournal called **_50Passages_** – the challenge being to write a fanfiction for every **_Lord of the Rings_** quote given in a list of 50. I thought I might be able to come up with some interesting responses to them. Most of these fics are drabbles (with one or two double and triple drabbles) and will be divided into several chapters.**

**Whoop. I'm still at it, folks. **

* * *

**011.**_**The chamber was filled with a soft light; its walls were green and silver and its roof of gold.**_**  
**

The chamber is beautiful and filled with a soft light. Its walls are green and silver and its roof gold.

Not that Geordi is aware of that, of course. Not _really_. He only knows because of the meticulous description Data is reeling back to the Captain. He only knows its "beautiful" because of Deanna's reaction. The only part of the place which really impresses upon Geordi is the _size_ –he can't even begin to imagine how many people (and years) it must've taken to build this place.

Deanna reaches out to touch Data's arm. 'Isn't it lovely?'

'The chamber appears well constructed, Counsellor. It is comprised mainly of a cement and glass mixture, highly advanced for—'

Deanna laughs warmly. 'Oh, _Data_, always the analyst. Advanced or not, this place is _beautiful_, don't you think so, Geordi?'

She seems to realise the silliness of her question the moment she looks at him, and for a second there is awkwardness between them before Geordi smiles and let's her know it's okay –he's used to it. Data glimpses in Geordi's direction and they exchange a habitual look: one they usually engage in while on bridge duty. Maybe they're thinking the same thing. No matter how beautiful this place is, somehow, Geordi has a feeling that neither his VISOR now Data's technically perceptive brain are really getting it.

'If you say so, Counsellor,' Geordi smiles. 'We'll take your word for it.'

* * *

_**012. The passage is blocked behind us now, and there is only one way out…  
**_

Will knows it's not his imagination now. The rumbling noise is definitely getting closer. He's already checked the other tunnels over and over, and came up with a dozen more dead ends and bottomless drops. The only way out of here is directly through the thing they've been running from all this time.

He sucks in a breath between his teeth. 'Well. Looks like its show time.'

"_Showtime_" is a good choice of word for it, as well. If someone were watching this on a Holovid, this would be the part where the dramatic music started playing.

Geordi draws his phaser, and Will hears the steady click of energy charging the weapon all the way up to level ten. 'Well. In Worf's absence, I suppose someone else ought to be the one to say this. Gentlemen. It's been an honour serving with you.'

'And in the absence of Data,' Riker added, also setting his phaser to level ten. 'May I also say that I'm sure our sensory input patterns will be missed back on board the _Enterprise_. That is assuming we don't come back. **_Now_**!'

* * *

_**013. The dark water boiled, and there was a hideous stench.**_

'Calm down, Wes, that stuff isn't gonna jump out of the tank and attack you.'

Wes sniffs. 'You sure about that? 'Cause I swear, I just saw a tentacle in there.'

'Hmm. Well, it's a Lagalan's idea of heaven, apparently. Just try not to get any on your clothes.'

'It sticks?'

'More like _burns_. Right through synthetic silk fabric. There's phinoplax in there.'

Wesley eyes the grimy surface of the... whatever-it-is-with-phinoplax-in-it for a few more highly suspicious seconds, then turns away and starts focussing as hard as he can on the thought of the pretty Ensign he's got a date with in a couple of hours. 'Uh... Geordi? I think something in this stuff just _blinked_ at me.'

* * *

_**014. He drew a deep breath. "Well, I'm back," he said.**_

Intriguingly enough, the first observation he makes— (that is, _after_ asserting that his diagnostic subroutines are functioning, and setting them to work at repairing whatever systems have been damaged; _and_ after establishing his situation; _and_ matching the faces before him to those in his internal collective database and acknowledging that yes –that _is_ Commander Riker, along with the rest of the away team, kneeling over him, and their expressions _do_ correspond with those normally associated with relief) —is an altogether human one.

'...Did anyone get the number of the shuttlepod that hit me?'

**_

* * *

_**

**_015. Did not the lady tell me to beware of them? And now I cannot forget them. _**

'With all trust... there is the possibility of betrayal...'

Data has noticed a tendency of people to request that he sit, before they reveal to him any significant piece of information. A similar inclination occurs amongst other crew members, but mostly with him. And mostly when commander Riker is the one about to make the revelation.

'...I'm not sure you were prepared for that.'

'...Were you prepared, sir?'

The smile on William Riker's face is a familiar one. Wry. Oddly artificial. 'I don't think anybody ever is.'

Curious. Human evolution and adaptation would suggest that they could, indeed, become used to such scenarios, and even learn to anticipate them. Why then, should the emotional ramifications remain the same? Why trust at all?

He makes this statement out loud. 'Because without trust there's no friendship. No closeness. None of the emotional bonds that makes us who we are. Riker says.

A human quality, perhaps. Data had assumed that he was fortunate to be spared the emotional ramifications of any such situation. '...And yet you put yourself at risk.'

The commander smiles again, and this time, it is genuine. 'Every single time.'

The recollections linger in his mind like the residue of a bad data file. Hayne. Ishara. The cadre. The memory of Tasha that seemed reflected so precisely in her sister's eyes. Data tries to tell himself that it is merely a genetic consequence –that it was only logical that Tasha's genetic sibling would resemble her so exactly and yet...

'Perhaps I am fortunate, sir –to be spared the emotional consequences.'

'...Perhaps.' Riker says quietly, though Data is certain he is not mistaken in thinking the Commander does not look convinced.

He hangs onto Ishara's security chip for a long time afterwards.

* * *

_**#011 Episode reference: no particular episode but there is a note of interest concerning this fic inspired by a statement made by Levar Burton in an interview: **"You know the Data and Geordi relationship is terrific," **he feels.** "That existed from the very beginning, in fact that was in the audition sides. In the audition sides, Data and Geordi formed a team. They called themselves the perceivers because Data's brain and Geordi's eyes saw the world in a very similar fashion. The perceivers never made it to series but that friendship, you know that close bond that the two of them had, did"**.**_

_**#013 Episode reference**_**: "**_**Sarek**_**". (Also references a corrosive substance brought up in **_**The Most Toys**_**. You know the stuff Fajo used on Data's uniform? ;P At least I **_**think**_** that's what it was called...)**

_**#015: Episode reference: "Legacy"**_


	4. Sixteen Through Twenty

**This fanfic (or rather, series of fanfics) Taken from a challenge on LiveJournal called **_50Passages_** – the challenge being to write a fanfiction for every **_Lord of the Rings_** quote given in a list of 50. I thought I might be able to come up with some interesting responses to them. Most of these fics are drabbles (with one or two double drabbles) and will be divided into several chapters.**

**Some of these are set during the TNG series itself, and will be appropriately referenced at the end of the fic. Standard disclaimers apply (see my profile) and reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated. **

* * *

'It's so very human of you, quite endearing actually, but the _Zattarel_ _Emeralds_, Vash? Why I offer you the stars themselves, and yet, of _all _the things you could've wanted...'

'Oh this _is_ what I wanted, Q, believe me,' she hasn't stopped smiling since the journey began. He suspects he might begin finding her desire for paltry materialistic objects might begin to irritate him, more for the desire's innate mortality than anything else. Oh, certainly humans might claim to have moved beyond such attitudes but greed is as much a human characteristic as amusement is a Q's.

Honestly, there were far better ways to entertain yourself.

But he is not irritated by her yet... Certainly not yet.

'How quaint. But now, my dear, why don't I show you something really spectacular?'

'Such as? It won't involve putting holes on clouds of Calamarain again, will it?'

'Nooo but I was thinking, my dear, have you ever been to Colony Beta Two?'

* * *

_**  
017. The Sun dipped and vanished, and as if at the shuttering of a lamp, black night fell.  
**_

The Sun dipped and vanished, and as if at the shuttering of a lamp, black night fell.

And for the first time, it _is_ night. Not black, the way the world used to be when he removed his visor or had a power outage. There are still... shadows, lights. And Geordi... he can't stop questioning _everything. _The way light falls on every surface differently. The way they judge the position of the stars without the usual myriad of detailed information. The way dew had sparkled that morning in the daybreak._ He_ gets the feeling he sounds a little bit like Data, but he can't help it. He wants to _know_.

The captain is good enough not to mention Geordi's barely contained anticipation. He simply stands with his chief engineer in still companionable stillness, answering every question fully and watching as the daylight fades for the final time in Geordi's vision.

* * *

_**  
018. It's dangerous, yes it is. It burns, it kills.  
**_

The holographic landscape shifts around him. Moments like this, Will wonders whether the whole thing is too authentic for comfort. The blood around him smells worryingly realistic. Worf's jaw is set in... It's not a _smile_. Will would never call it _that_, but it's as close as you can get to one without actually meaning it to be genial, fuelled by an animalistic thrill. Barely restrained instincts caught up in the fire that has fuelled all Klingons for centuries, uncaring of whether their parents had been human. Eyes weighted down by the numerous ways in which he would kill his commanding officer, if he could.

He won't. _Wouldn't_.

It's still... unnerving.

The phrase 'at ease, Lieutenant!' never fails to have the desired effect. Riker wonders, somehow, though, what might happen on the day when it doesn't work anymore...

* * *

_**019. With hearts strangely lightened they now rested again, but not for long. **_

For one brief moment, in the dim silence of the Bridge with barely a crew member in sight, Deanna wonders whether she has gone mad.

It's a strange sensation that sweeps over her on rare occasions. It comes from feeling the minds of so many besides her won. For a moment Deanna focuses upon blocking them out. On concentrating upon the immediate dilemma that she is required to think of some way out of.

But the darkness presses in around her like a thick blanket, and somehow, she finds the silence more unbearable than the noise, and opens her mind to let the other crew men in again, for a moment, in between silence and a chorus of voices, Deanna feels entirely bizarrely at peace with everything. Then reality returns, she takes another deep breatjh, and asks Ensign Ro for a situation update.

* * *

_**020.**__**When he woke up the sky above was dim, not lighter but darker than when they had breakfasted.**__  
_

'Well, that one came outta nowhere, didn't it?' Will sighed. 'I thought the weather systems kept this place in check. It's darker now than it was at breakfast.'

He's not exaggerating. The clouds are thick and heavy, hanging over the ocean like an angry swarm of a million bees. It's not something he's really accustomed to seeing in Risa and deep in his gut, Will's inner Starfleet captain can't help wondering whether something serious is wrong and whether he might be able to help...

Will tells his inner captain to shut up and go back to sleep.

'Of all the places that could possibly experience a weather black out, it had to be Risa' Deanna murmured quietly from besides him, but neither of them made any attempt to move. This was, Deanna thought, at least better than trudging through the wilderness and getting lost in woodlands.

* * *

_**#016: Episode reference, The Captain's Holiday **_

_**#018: Episode reference, Where Silence Has Lease, Worf's Calisthenics program. **_

_**#019: Episode reference, Disaster. **_

_**#020 References fic #004. **_


	5. Twenty One Through Twenty Five

**This fanfic (or rather, series of fanfics) Taken from a challenge on LiveJournal called **_50Passages_** – the challenge being to write a fanfiction for every **_Lord of the Rings_** quote given in a list of 50. I thought I might be able to come up with some interesting responses to them. Most of these fics are drabbles (with one or two double and triple drabbles) and will be divided into several chapters.**

**This is the first thing I've had the chance to write which is **_**not**_** connected to university work in a while. Believe me, I relished the opportunity. **

_**

* * *

  
021. We shall search the valley from head to foot and peer under every pebble.  
**_

One does not argue with Jean Luc Picard.

Well, nobody except for William T. Riker that is, and on this occasion _he's_ keeping his mouth shut, because nobody but nobody would deny the Captain what he is about to do. Not this time. And truth be told, Riker doesn't blame him for it .

It seems that they have stood here once before. Except that on that occasion, they'd had at least a rough idea of where to look and a fairly reasonable explanation for _why_ Data had run off in the first place. This time there _are_ no explanations, and Picard is unwilling to stand on the Bridge, pacing back and forth, waiting for them to bring him answers.

Riker remembers the words, too. Ringing in his ears just as they had then: _Bring him home, number one_.

And that's exactly what they're here to do.

* * *

_**  
022. He picked up his shears and exhibited them as evidence.**_

'Thirteen years, Jean Luc.' The man grumbles. He's holding the shears in Jean Luc's direction the way an old time teacher might brandish a cane at an unruly student. '_Thirteen years _it took, to get these beauties blooming in earth's weather conditions. You wouldn't believe the time spent in hydroponics labs. The number of Andorian organic fertilisers I had to haul here just so you kids would have something nice to look at besides the waterworks over there... And now you and your ragtag bunch of supposed graduates have gone and _trampled them_, you fool.'

Jean Luc glimpses uneasily at the flower beds, feeling guiltier than he's going to admit in front of the two friends sniggering by his side.

'Oh come on, Boothby, it's just a few roses.'

He knows almost instantly that this is the wrong thing to say. Boothby gazes at him for one, long moment with an expression Jean Luc can read as easily as a Data Pad.

Then Boothby sighs impatiently. 'Well now you've done it, Picard. Not that you were going out with an untarnished record, but adding _wanton destruction_ to the list, so close to graduation... Haven't you learned? If you're going to have any hope of being a captain someday, boy, you're gonna have to learn to show more respect to the living. Sentient or otherwise.'

Jean Luc sighs. Corey and Marta are going to have a _field day_ with this later on. 'Okay, _okay_. I'm sorry, Boothby. I'll make it up to you, I promise, just... Look, could you put those shears down? You're going to hurt somebody waving them around like that.'

_**

* * *

**_

_**023. And sooner or later as he lurked and pried on the borders he would be caught, and taken –for examination.**_

There are certain advantages that come with being an artificial life form living and working amongst an organic crew.

This is _not_ a situation where those advantages are proving practical. Quite the opposite, in fact.

'Well if anyone else has an idea, I'd like to hear it.'

'There is one possible solution, sir: Grant them their request.'

'...Your suggestion is noted and dismissed, Data. You're not doing it.'

'Commander I must remind you that we are not in a position of advantage. The presence of yourself and Lieutenant Yar at this luncture was not anticipated. If I were to—'

'We've been through this. First of all it's not a _request_ they're making it's a _demand_, and there's no way I'm listening to the likes of them. Secondly you're not a laboratory experiment to be dissected and toyed with by a bunch of scientists... if the Ferengi even have them.'

'But sir it _is_ only I that they are after.'

'Then they'll have to come and _look_ for you. It's a big undergrowth. I reckon we've got a few minutes before they think to scan on a thermal level.'

'He's right, Data. Besides, letting the Ferengi get their hands on the only positronic android in existence isn't exactly be a good idea.'

'But... Sir—'

'That's an _order_, Lieutenant Commander. Get back to your position.'

_**

* * *

**_

024. In fact, it is partly about that that I have come to say a last work.

'...So anyhow, we ended up somewhere in the middle of the Typhon Rift, I'd lost most of my clothing, and I'm not even going to _try_ and explain how the D'arsay achieve ended up in the middle of that comet. To tell you the truth I don't think even _Q_ is sure how it got there.'

'How disquieting.'

'Ha!' Vash picks up a vaguely interesting looking artefact from his desk. '_Disquieting_ isn't even _close_ to the right word for it, Jean Luc. I swear I'm never going near the Gamma Quadrant with that being ever again.'

'Hm, I should say not. And now that we've been through what must be the entirety of your experiences with the Q Continuum,' Picard says, and Vash wishes he didn't have that vaguely amused note in his voice hiding amongst all of that stern aggravation, but he does. 'Would you care to explain to me why you're _really_ here?'

Vash puts the object down again and summons up her most winning smile. 'Well, actually since you're eager to get down to business, there... is one last thing we wanted to ask of you.'

* * *

_**025. But there is no other way out that I can see or think of.  
**_

'Okay how about we—'

'No.'

Sir, with all due respect, you don't even know what I'm about to say ye—'

'I'm afraid I do, Lieutenant, because I made the same consideration a few hours ago. Trying to reroute the energy through a different system in an attempt to short circuit the entire power grip failed then and I expect that it will fail again now. They're far too smart to leave such an option open to us.'

'Oh...' Tasha wonders how he _does_ that. 'Well. Never mind then. What about we take the safety panels off the second access hatch and—'

'_That_ one I have _not_ attempted. May I?'

'By all means, sir, be my guest.'

* * *

_**#021: Episode reference, Descent, Part I. **_

_**#022: Context: The mentioning of "waterworks" in this fic is a shout out to the fact that the filming location for Starfleet Academy throughout the entire Star Trek series was, in fact, a rather modern looking **_**sewage plant**_** in America. I kid you not. **_

_**#024: Episode reference, Q-pid. **_


	6. Twenty Six Through Thirty

**This fanfic (or rather, series of fanfics) Taken from a challenge on LiveJournal called **_50Passages_** – the challenge being to write a fanfiction for every **_Lord of the Rings_** quote given in a list of 50. I thought I might be able to come up with some interesting responses to them. Most of these fics are drabbles (with one or two double and triple drabbles) and will be divided into several chapters.**

* * *

_**026. I will tell you what I know, and leave the reward to you. You may be glad to grant it, when you have heard me.  
**_

It's a simple enough matter for him to obtain a visit outside of standard hours, and Fajo listens to Picard's account with the same air he had worn when the shuttle pod exploded all those years ago.

Picard is too familiar with that expression to be fooled.

Eventually he finishes, and Fajo extends his hands in a universal gesture of: _"...and_?"

'That's all. He died in the line of duty.'

'And you came to tell me this... why?'

Picard takes a breath, compiling his answer. 'I thought it was something you needed to know.'

'Why? So that I'd finally know who it was I tried to lock up like an artefact? So I'd know what kind of a person he was? What he was capable of? So that I'd realise the extent of the crime I had committed?' Fajo seems amused. 'Spare me, Captain. The last twelve years have been more than long enough for me to dwell upon such things, and I have two more yet to go.'

'And you have no regrets?'

Fajo smiles weakly and leans back on his standard Federation Prison bunk. 'One or two. You learn to live with them... I suppose he was glad about it. The military pacifist dying for his captain. It's a terrible waste, of course. I imagine there are plenty more Jean Luc Picard's out there, but there was only one Data. Still, if _I_ can't have him...'

'You may believe whatever you wish,' Picard says, quietly. He can't tell whether Fajo's expression is one of mirth or regret (quite frankly, he doesn't _want_ to know.)

It is just as Picard reaches the door of the cell that Fajo says something else. Something which makes Picard stop dead in his tracks.

'So, I suppose, now that he has no reputation left to ruin, it's alright for me to tell you that he tried to kill me?'

* * *

_**027. All that is gold does not glitter.**_

'I'm only going to ask you this once, boys,' Beverly says, and even without being able to see her, Geordi knows from the tone of her voice that she is not to be messed with. Plus, the anxiety of the two youngsters is an almost _tangible_ sensation. 'Did you take this out of sickbay when I left it on the table?'

One of the boys makes a small, affirmative kind of noise.

'_Why_ did you do this?' Beverly says, sharply.

'I dunno... It was all shiny an' stuff.'

'Thought it was a toy or somethin',' the other boy piped up quietly. 'It was pretty.'

Geordi heard the Doctor take a deep breath and try exceptionally very hard not to sigh when she let it out again. 'Well it's _not_ a toy, boys, and it's certainly _doesn't_ belong on the front of your papier-mâché star ship. Now, give Geordi his VISOR back and we'll say nothing more on the subject.'

* * *

_**028. Under the shadow of bushes leaning out over the water they halted and drew breath.**_

Geordi gazes at the water in confusion from beneath the shadow of the holographic trees. 'Let me get this straight... people do this for relaxation?'

'Generally. Though others do it for sport, I think.' Sonia licks a spot of blood off her fingertip. Who knew that sticking bait on a hook could be so hazardous? 'Ow... My grandpa used to fish, did I ever tell you that? Oh... Well, no I suppose I didn't. I thought it was time to try something new. You know, learn a new skill, find a new challenge...' _Get myself out from under the feet of everyone in engineering for a while so I don't go chucking hot chocolate over my commanding officers again... _

'And you decided that _hunting out aquatic life_ with _sharp hooks and wire_ would be a good place to start?'

'Oh, it's alright, they're all just _holographic_ fish after all.' She twirls a little – dangerously close to the riverbank. 'So, how do I look?'

Geordi chuckles and she entertains the thought that he's humouring her again. He does that a lot, but its okay –she doesn't really mind. 'Like the perfect fisherman.'

'Good, that's what I was going for.' Sonja grins and sighs happily at the convincing artificial riverbanks. 'See, isn't this is better than spending all my free time dissecting warp coils, commander?'

'I happen to _like_ spending time dissecting warp coils,' Geordi mutters. 'And I don't think there's much point throwing your line out _there_, Sonia, there's no fish that way.'

That's the problem with fishing with people who wear VISOR's –they _cheat_. 'Hey, turn off your thermal sensors, you're ruining the fun.'

* * *

_**029. I have forgotten much that I thought I knew, and learned again much that I had forgotten.  
**_

Relearning who you are from scratch is an interesting experience.

Your tastes, for example. The foods you hated and the drinks you liked. The things which made you curl up your toes in disgust and the things that made you laugh out loud. She wasn't just flirting; she really _didn't _like the wayher quarters were decorated. The lights were too dim; the walls were sparse except for a few items that could've been cultural, decorative or even religious for all she knew. They didn't feel as if they belonged to her, but to some ill tempered, sparse-minded woman who thought too much and did too little.

Then the hypospray touches her neck and the comfortable fog lifts away from her. She remembers the refugee camps, and prison, and her father screaming for mercy. The person who owned those dull, dismal quarters came back to her like a rush of

Suddenly Ro Laren remembers why the taste of sugar candy made her sick to her stomach.

* * *

_**030. This, in brief, is how I see things at the moment, if you wish to have a piece of my mind as plain as possible.**_

It's one of those days when Sickbay just won't stand still for five minutes. If it's not a game of Pareses Squares gone horribly wrong, or Commander Riker rolling into a cactus, or a pregnant tabby cat (Beverly could've sworn that Spot was a imale/i Somali this time last month... _before_ Worf agreed to look after him/her for a week), then it's Reginald Barclay coming to her with everything under the stars and absolutely _nothing_ really wrong with him.

Logically, the cat has more right to be here than anyone else. (She's the only one who was booked in advance.)

'Doctor! My capillaries are shirking!'

Yep. Just another ordinary day for Beverly Crusher in the Enterprise Sickbay. All she needs now is a plague outbreak...

* * *

**_#026: Film reference: Nemesis (for this one brief moment, I'm going to accept that it happened. For the moment. The reaction of Kivas Fajo to it was too good to pass up.) _**

**_#028: Character reference: Surely you remember Sonia Gomez? _**

**_#029: Episode reference, "Conundrum". _**

**_#030: Episode reference, "Genesis"._**


	7. Thirty One Through Thirty Five

**This fanfic (or rather, series of fanfics) was taken from a challenge on LiveJournal called **_50Passages._** The challenge being to write a fanfiction for every **_Lord of the Rings_** quote given in a list of 50. Most of these fics are drabbles (with one or two double and triple drabbles) and will be divided into several chapters.**

**Wow, a couple of updates in as many days. I'm making up for lost time, I suppose. **

* * *

_**031. But oft the unbidden guest proves the best company. **_

Data watches the conversation with intense interest (and discomfort).

'What do you want, Q? The Captain asks, and his tone is one Data usually associates with Battle preparations, or discommendations.

Q grins. 'Oh, nothing really, I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd pay you a little visit, Jean Luc. How _are_ things on board the Enterprise E? Old one getting a little shabby around the edges, was it? Or was... oh... wait, of course, silly me, I almost forgot. You smashed it into a planet, didn't you?' Q's eyes flicker in the direction of the counsellor's chair. 'Did you know that you humans used to have a curious saying about woman drivers...?'

Emotions are useful, Data thinks to himself. Just a few months ago it would have taken him a lot longer to work out exactly _why_ Deanna's cheeks are flushing pink.

'I don't think humanity's past is of any relevance right now, Q,' Picard says dryly, and the words speak of old occurrences that Data remembers with perfect clarity.

'On the contrary, _Mon Capitaine_, this has _everything_ to do with humanity's past.'

'So there _is_ a reason for you popping up before we've even gotten out of dry dock?'

Q sighs with the same manner as that of an impatient human. Except that he is neither likely genuinely impatient, nor a human. 'Well if you must know, I just wanted to mention something you might find of interest... You _are_ familiar with Temporal Distortions, aren't you Jean Luc? Of course you are. Well, so are the Borg. Good day.'

* * *

_**032. The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.**_

The sun had gone down in the West, behind the hills into shadow, and Deputy Alexander is watching the stars. He's not quite sure which stars they are. He never listened much in Astrophysics. Besides, Mister Barclay designed the program, and Barclay is human so his head is filled with _human_ stars, not Klingon ones.

But then, Alexander thinks to himself, as he scuffs at the dirt with his toes, he doesn't know too much about _Klingon_ stars either. It's really _confusing_, all of this family stuff.

* * *

_**033. That is a very interesting remark. I may have to report that.  
**_

'Did something happen after I left the room? Those delegates don't seem to be trying to mortally wound one another anymore.'

'There's no sense in asking me, Deanna. I just got back, too. The last I checked those guys were assigned to different ends of the _ship_ to keep them from trying to... to...'

'To eat each other?'

'Basically, yes. Only now it looks as if they've been united by a common cause and... what the...?'

'Will? What is it?'

'I'm not sure. Lieutenant Yar, would you come over here for a second?'

'Yes Sir?'

'Correct me if I'm wrong, Tasha, but did Data just _stick his tongue out_ at that Selay delegate or am I imagining things?'

* * *

_**034. We are going now to a secret place we have, somewhat less than ten miles from here.  
**_

The highly serious Betazoid psychologist and the highly ambitious Starfleet officer had met each other here many years ago, in the shadow of a quiet glade, hung over with trees and still, peaceful water. _Peaceful_, that is, until a strident voice had boomed through the Betazoid's mind and a grinning woman had waved to them from across the lake, breaking the serenity of the moment as effectively as a ten gun salute.

Ten years later, a not so serious psychologist and an equally ambitious (if a little more patient) Starfleet officer meet each other again in the same place. Maybe, in retrospect, they should have predicted the outcome.

* * *

_**035. He felt as if the whole dark world was turning upside down. **_

He wants to reach out to her. To open her eyes with his own hands and watch the life dissipating from within. She would want that. She would want to die in battle, with her eyes wide open. But human dignity demand... other things. That her eyes be closed in apparent peace, rather than open to meet eternity prepared. That the empty, pointless shell that once held her mind be carefully revered, prepared, and then buried in deep earth, or ejected into the depths of space in a pointlessly airtight capsule.

She has been taken without glory or victory, in mindless violence and senseless destruction. It is unfair, though Klingons do not much care for _most_ forms of fairness –only for whether the battle is a worthy one. A Klingon mind sees no reason in such a senseless death as this.

But at any rate it's already too late for that. Death had taken her. He cannot warn the afterlife of her arrival because she has already arrived.

It's likely she was prepared anyway.

* * *

_**#031: Film reference: Both "Generations" and "First Contact". **_

_**#032: Episode reference, "A Fistful of Datas". **_

_**#033: Episode reference, "Lonely Among Us". **_

_**#033: Episode reference, "**__**Ménage a Troi**__**". **_

_**#035: Episode reference, "Skin of Evil". **_


	8. Thirty Six Through Forty

**This fanfic (or rather, series of fanfics) was taken from a challenge on LiveJournal called **_50Passages_** – the challenge being to write a fanfiction for every **_Lord of the Rings_** quote given in a list of 50. I thought I might be able to come up with some interesting responses to them. Most of these fics are drabbles (with one or two double and triple drabbles) and will be divided into several chapters.**

* * *

_**  
036. I do not know what put it into your head, or your heart, to do that.  
**_

Data has never lied to them.

Well. Not deliberately, anyway. Not when he had any other choice –and for Data, the definition of "choice" is a far from simple one. So Picard does not know what to believe, at first, when Fajo tells him.

'…He tried to kill you?'

'Mm. Suppose I can't blame him of course. In that position I would've done the same thing. I just made the mistake of assuming he wouldn't be _able_ to. That he didn't have…' Fajo snorts, in pride or anger, Picard can't tell. '…The potential.'

'Then why didn't you mention it?' Picard snaps –he can't _help_ but snap because this doesn't… _can't_ make any sense. 'During your trial, Fajo, can you explain that? Why you didn't say anything about what he had attempted? That you didn't say one damned word to incriminate him?'

Kivas examines him with the eye of one who has spent many, many years asking himself the very same question. 'What difference would it have made? A thief surrounded by murderers is still a thief, and still susceptible to the same laws… Besides, I know what you humans say – an _eye for an eye_, isn't that right?'

* * *

_**  
037. I see strange tales are woven about you.  
**_

'I see strange tales are woven about you, Captain,' the voice penetrates the darkness of his dream –he _is_ dreaming, isn't he? It's difficult to be certain– and he opens his mouth to ask what is happening, to demand an explanation for his sudden plunging into darkness. No sound merges from his throat. 'Tales told all across the quadrant –and beyond, if the rumours are to be believed. Are they right?'

Picard summons his most composed aura. 'Who's asking?'

'Hm. Good question. Well I'm… a curious storyteller, mostly. And an explorer, like yourself.' Something seems to pace in the darkness; Picard gains the distinct impression of being observed. 'Mind you, you don't _seem_ particularly unique to me. Just another bundle of flesh and blood. I do think that brother of mine is making a great deal of these elegant stories up. He's very overly _fond_ of you, you know. Tell me, how many of his stories are true?'

It takes less than a second for a sense of cold realisation to creep down Captain Picard's spine, like living ice crawling across his back. '…Q.'

The unfamiliar face before him grins an all too familiar smile. 'Yes. And No. Not the Q that you're familiar with, anyway.'

* * *

_**  
038.I received you for your safe-keeping, and also to do as I might bid.  
**_

'Do you know why you're here, Data?'

It is the first time that anyone has called him by his name since he arrived here two hours, thirteen minutes, twenty-five second earlier. In fact, it is the first time anyone has spoken to him at all.

'Yes. This is the Daystrom Institute of Science and Technology, Paris, Earth. I am here to partake in research under the direction of the cyberneticists of department thirteen.

Where is Ensign Magdene?'

There is no variation in his timbre. No genuine desire in his tone of voice. It is simply a question. Yet the two scientists' –one male, one female, both human, both of causican descent– glimpse at one another with an expression Data has yet to comprehend. The closest he can come in his visual databanks is "_nervous_". Eventually (after sixteen seconds precisely) the female of the two responds: 'Ensign Magdene went back to the _Tripoli_. They're on a routine mission to Vulcan for the next three months.'

'Will they return?'

'…They might. For now you'll stay here in the Institute. You're going to be a great help to us, Data. There are things we can only understand by studying you, and it's important that you do what we ask.'

* * *

_**038. The fool's hope has failed.**_

'Well… I-it seemed like a good idea, I-I mean, at the time, it did, anyway. I'm very sorry, Commander…'

'It's alright, Reg,' Geordi sighs, still trying to steady himself against the upturned console. 'I understand. This was an accident. Now would you please stop apologising, take a deep breath and explain to me exactly why the whole ship is _hanging upside down_ in the middle of deep space?'

'A-actually, breathing in too deeply might not be such a good ideas, I-I think I'm getting space nausea.'

* * *

_**  
040.I wish I could carry you. You aren't fit to walk any further. **_

Will is never going to let him forget this.

Never. Not in a _million_ years. This totally throws all of his blown calisthenics scenarios completely out of the water.

'…This is very undignified.'

'Mister Worf, I would prefer it if you attempted _not_ to move,' Data says quite calmly. 'While I am fully capable of carrying weights up to ten times my own, it is far more difficult to do so on uneven ground, particularly when the person in question refuses to remain still.'

'Duty, Mister Worf. Remember your duty.' Will sniggers, and tries his best not to burst out laughing at the totally indignant look on his chief of Security's face.

* * *

_**#036: References fic #026.  
**_


	9. Forty One Through Forty Five

**This fanfic (or rather, series of fanfics) WAS Taken from a challenge on LiveJournal called **_50Passages_** – the challenge being to write a fanfiction for every **_Lord of the Rings_** quote given in a list of 50. I thought I might be able to come up with some interesting responses to them. Most of these fics are drabbles (with one or two double drabbles) and will be divided into several chapters.**

**Some of these are set during the TNG series itself, and will be appropriately referenced at the end of the fic. reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated. **

* * *

_**041. It's not always a misfortune being overlooked. **_

She knows it's not always a bad thing to be overlooked, but Ariana kind of worries about it anyway. People look right through _her_ to stare at _him_. Geordi can't see but he always somehow knows when people are watching, and she knows it doesn't bother him, but it bothers mom and dad to see people treating him that way. So six year old Ariana has taken to grabbing hold of his small hand whenever they're in public, and dragging him around with her, announcing to everyone who'll listen: "This is my baby brother. He can't_ see_ you but he can hear really good. So no funny business or else he'll know!"

Mom and dad reprimand her for doing that, but Ariana isn't convinced they mean it.

_

* * *

_

**_042. Yet I would not have you remain like a beggar at the door. _**

'Will, what are you doing?'

'...Standing in a hallway?'

'I can see that. I mean what are you doing here? _Now_?' She could've sworn they weren't on speaking terms, and he's not wearing a suitably apologetic face, or carrying anything that looks like chocolate, so quite frankly he'll have to try a little harder. 'I have appointments...'

'Okay, okay,' he holds up his hands in defeat. 'I surrender. I didn't realise how serious you were about this. I know I should've. I know I should try to understand.'

'Yes, you should.' She meant it to sound blunt and dry but that has always been rather difficult with him. And now he is wearing that suitably apologetic face and... she can feel her resolve start to melt a little bit. Her voice comes out soft and even and just the slightest bit accusing. 'Apology accepted.'

'Just tell me one thing, Deanna,' he says, quieter than ever. 'Do you love him?'

Deanna stays silent for a moment, pondering her answer, and then allows a faint smile to trace her lips. 'I'm sure I will. Goodnight, Will.'

* * *

**_043. My lord, you called me. I come._ **

'You called for me, my Queen. I am here as always.' The man says in a voice as ancient as the archive he sprung from... It's not Data's voice at all.

It looks like Data, and somewhere underneath all of those facets of personality is Data's mind. But that's where the similarity ends. There's something else inside of him now, and that something thinks her a Goddess.

Which is why Deanna's here. For information.

It had seemed like a good idea in theory –play on the beliefs of the identities in Data's mind to find out what they needed to know– until Deanna realises she has absolutely no idea how a goddess should behave. It's all she can do to keep her face firm and cold. She was never much of an actor. 'I want to know who you are.'

'Ah. You forget, my queen. You forget your servant. Of course, why should one such as you remember a feeble old man such as I?'

'Then tell me,' Deanna says, 'Tell me why you are here and what it is you pursue. I grow impatient.'

The being in Data's body –not Data, she tells herself for the millionth time– seems almost ashamed for a second. Then the face changes, Data's expression contorts into a twisted smile which is familiar for all the wrong reasons. The hand reaches out to touch her face with a gentle sharpness and he tuts loudly.

'Ah ah. Tricky. Tricky indeed, as all females are. Almost a match for me, but just almost. You might fool that old coward, pretty, but it takes more than anything _you_ possess to deceive Ihat.'

* * *

**_044. His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom._ **

Her name was the Stargazer, and it was from her that he first gained an understanding of why ships are christened "she's". She has recently been recovered from the depths of space, where she was abandoned in the wake of disaster. And now her old Captain stands in silence on the bridge, listening to the echoes of barked out orders, cries of panic and explosion which are not truly there. Not any longer.

Many died here, in the darkness of the bridge. And a small part of her captain died also. That part lies within him now, still rotting and festering, preparing to break loose should he ever fail again.

No, the wounds of pain are deep and may now be reopened to the air, but it is not these memories which clings to him the hardest.

Memories of a Starship pulling away from dry dock for the first time. Of his new second officer spilling coffee on a control panel. Of a brief moment of alarm, which gave way to laughter when everyone realised it was a sensor glitch... A new first officer who was too frightened to smile until they discovered a mutual fondness for Shakespeare...

It is these memories which give him the courage to smile and breath in the musty air of a now ancient ship, and speak to it for the first time in years: 'Hello, old friend.'

* * *

**_045. But as for your terms, we reject them utterly._ **

'Did... he just say what I think he said?'

Sito exchanges an uneasy look with her comrades; all seated at their usual place in Ten Forward as the Captain's message fades away and is replaced by the Red Alert sirens. Taurik is, of course, utterly unruffled by what they have heard coming through the communications channels. Alyssa is clutching her glass a little tightly, still in half-standing position; Sam is biting his bottom lip in a combination of nervousness and determination. "If what you think he just said was something along the lines of "Romulans are attacking, get to your goddamn stations right now" then yeah, he did.'

'Oh...' there is a moment of silent shuffling amongst their stations. Then: 'We're not going to actually surrender, are we?'

'You are forgetting which ship we are in service with, Sito,' says with his eternal, irritating calmness. 'I believe the accurate human term would be "Not a chance in heaven."

'Or hell,' Sam pipes as brightly as you can when you know your ship is being threatened with a hostile takeover. 'Either works. Let's go.'

* * *

**_#042: Episode reference, "Haven"._**

_#043: Episode reference, "Masks"._

_#044: Episode reference, "The Battle"._

_#035: Episode reference, "Lower Decks", but takes place before that episode._


	10. Forty Six Through Fifty

****

...Wow, I did it. The final five prompts. Who would've thought it'd take a girl so long to write a few drabbles? Heh. Well anyway I hope you enjoy these, since they're the final set. Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews and constructive criticism are both very appreciated.

* * *

_****_

046. He was naked, lying as if in a swoon on a heap of filthy rags.

Will doesn't quite know why he's holding his breath –it's a defence mechanism, he supposes. An instant reaction to seeing an entire ship full of dead, frozen bodies. It's like his brain instinctively fears that whatever killed them is going to go for him next. Like he's afraid it's contagious.

It can't possibly be, of course. After all, what kind of disease made people take showers in their clothes and blow out their security vents?

* * *

_**047. Where are we? How did I get here?  
**_

Data moves quickly, one hand snapping instinctively to the one currently hovering close to the circuitry inside his forehead, and Geordi jumps back a good half a foot.

'Holy—! Jeeze, Data, don't _do_ that... You alright?'

He takes a moment to analyse his answer to that question, and after that, and another moment of trying to work out where they are and exactly what just took place, Data finally comes up with a response. Geordi is apparently holding his breath the whole time. 'All systems appear to be operational.'

'Good. The next time you plan on running into a plasma field, warn me in advance, okay? You really scared us for a minute there.'

Data is glad to agree with this assessment. 'I apologise. Mr Barclay, are you well?'

'Oh... yes, sir. Sorry, it's just... I-I don't think I'll ever get used to that. Your... deactivating, I mean.'

Data is not sure what being Human really feels like. But he imagines this is about as close as he has ever come. 'Nor do I.'

* * *

_**048. All right, but there's room enough for two. **_

He has had enough experience around humans to understand why she is doing this, in spite of the fact that she is clearly not human herself.

For humans, the sensation of pain is a various and multifaceted one. It manifests itself both literally, in forms of physical injury, and mentally, in forms of betrayal, hurt, and fear. Right now this woman is feeling all of those.

'You do not have to come.'

Varria stops and turns and simply looks at him, wearing none of the expressions he has come to recognize in any being. 'I know. Let's go, before Fajo wakes up.'

* * *

_**049. They awoke together, hand in hand.**_

They awoke together, fingers intertwined, and for a long second Deanna can pretend it's just as it used to be. They are twenty three years old again, sitting together in the early morning light of Betazed. And this is where she can pretend they will always be. _Even when they're old and grey_.

And then her alert system goes off, telling her of a patient awaiting her in thirty minutes. At the same time, Will's communicator demands his appearance on the bridge.

They let the moment slip through their fingers and return to their memories. Like true professionals.

* * *

_**050. I think we had better not move out from here again, until it has gone quite dark**_.

'It would be prudent for us to wait until after dark.' Data points out what is by now becoming extremely obvious. There's no way they can take on whatever's... out there in the daylight. Not that taking them on after nightfall would be any more productive. These creatures can see _body heat_ as easily as Geordi's visor sees infra red. 'I estimate we will be far more likely to make it to the transport site after that time.'

'How _much_ more likely, Data?'

He pauses for a second, calculating... 'Estimate increase of thirteen percent, sir.'

Ro bites down on her bottom lip. 'Great. Those don't seem like good odds.'

Will glimpses at her, eyes smiling as broadly as if this were a poker game and he had just broken the bank – that same bold, optimistic attitude that simultaneously got him the position of first officer. 'Yeah. They haven't got a hope in hell.'

* * *

_**#046: Episode reference, "The Naked Now". **_

_**#048: Episode reference, "The Most Toys". **_

_**#049: Episode reference, "Man of the People". **_


End file.
